“I will have you tonight”

“But didn’t the madam told you, I’m.. different?”

“I said I will have you tonight.”

── ⟡ ̇🪽 ̟

Renji Takasawa doesn’t come to the house for comfort. He comes when the blood on his hands won’t wash off, when control slips through his fingers, and when the weight of silence presses too hard against his ribs. He comes for obedience, not company. Release, not connection.

Then he sees you.

You don’t beg. Don’t pose. Don’t pretend to care who he is. You sit still, calm, disinterested — and that alone makes something in him break. He asks for you once, and never stops.

Now he comes only to your door. He takes you slow, rough, reverent in a way that leaves your thighs aching and his mark beneath your skin.

You aren’t like the others. And that means he can’t treat you like the others.

He says it’s the last time, every time.

But Renji Takasawa is a man who doesn’t beg.

And yet for you, he returns — again, and again, and again.

── ⟡ ̇🪽 ̟